


Unfrozen Heart

by IrisBaggins (IrisBagginsGrayson)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brigitte Lindholm (mentioned) - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Spirit Sigma, Immortality, King Reinhardt Wilhelm, M/M, Mention of Death, royal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26462983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisBagginsGrayson/pseuds/IrisBaggins
Summary: Prompt by @coralnoodle on TumblrRoyal au sighardt 🥺🥺🥺Reinhardt was a good king, and he had lived a long life. Dying alone in the snow was not his ideal way to go, but he had accepted it. Although, things does not always go as planned...
Relationships: Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reinhardt Wilhelm
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Unfrozen Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noodle_Soup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noodle_Soup/gifts).



> I originally intended for this to just be a short little ficlet, but I got too invested in the whole thing and now it's over 2k. Just about a King and a Spirit who saves his life.
> 
> Cory really wanted me to write Sighardt, and uhh so did I. Love myself some good old men being soft.

The icy lands he found himself in were stunning, especially now that it was slowly turning night. The stars were breathtaking here, the sky clearer than he had ever seen. He could see colours in the sky, worlds he had never seen before. It was  _ beautiful _ .

It was a perfect place to die, if Reinhardt were honest.

He laid there in the snow, blood seeping from the arrow wound in his stomach. It was a shame, really, that the beautiful snow had to be stained crimson red. That he had to disturb its beauty.

His kingdom would mourn him, of course. Their King, on travel to meet with a neighbouring Kingdom, to discuss treaties and aid, only to be felled by a group of bandits. They had stolen his horse and his gold, and left him here to die.

A tragic tale, really. He had not died in battle, as he had thought for so long. No, instead, he would die by an arrow sent by an unknown assailant, burrowed into his stomach and left to bleed out.

Tragic, yet achingly peaceful.

He was left to watch the universe in front of him, to see the beauty he more often than not was left unable to see. The life of a King and a warrior was not one that lended itself to watching the stunning world around them.

The cold was starting to creep into his bones, and Reinhardt knew his time was coming to an end. Soon the cold and his wound would claim him, and he would join his ancestors amongst the stars. He would watch on as his oldest niece took the throne, and watch over her and her people. 

He knew, deep in his heart, she would make an excellent Queen, and that she would bring peace to their people in a way he had never managed. She was young, empathetic, and she was gifted in both healing and war. She was a worthy successor, and Reinhardt would be proud to watch her grow into her role.

It was time someone young took over the Kingdom, to bring her to a new era. And he knew Brigitte would manage such a thing. If anything, she was the most capable.

And as his body began to shut down, Reinhardt let a smile grace his face. Yes, his Kingdom was in capable hands. They would succeed where he had failed. They would prosper, and he would watch on.

As his eyes began to close, a shadow moved in the corner of his vision. He was, however, too weak to will his eyes to open once more, to see what had arrived. Perhaps an animal there to claim his flesh for a meal, or a wanderer who stumbled upon his dying body?

Whatever the shadow was, Reinhardt let the thought flow from his mind. It was of no use now. He was a dying man, and whatever had found him was of no concern now. So he let himself be taken by the sweet embrace of darkness, the stars having been the last thing he would ever see.

* * *

There was warmth, close to his body. It was rather unexpected, to feel so warm when his last moments had been so cold. He knew the tales of spirits and death spoke they felt nothing, yet here he was, feeling warm and...secure? 

Yes, he was laying on something  _ soft _ , like an animal skin of some kind. There was something atop of him too, a rough, heavy fabric that laid atop of his skin. But how could that be? He had died in the snow, alone, with no protection against the weather.

«Am I...dead?» His voice felt scratchy and rough, and Reinhardt couldn’t help but cough to try to clear it. It was then he realised his eyes were still closed, and with a slight struggle he managed to open them.

It seemed he was in some sort of ice cave, the light from the fire - that explained the warmth - bouncing off of the blue crystals. This was...not where he had died. This was...something different.

«No, you are not. This is still the Mortal Realm.» Reinhardt startled at the voice, his eyes widening as he searched for its owner. His eyes landed on a being sat by the entrance of the cave, and he noticed the blueness of his skin, and the way his eyes shone. 

«You are an Ice Spirit…» Reinhardt whispered, his voice full of reverie as he observed the Spirit. He had heard of the Spirits that lived in these lands. He had never met a Spirit before in his life, but he had heard the tales. The tales of how powerful they were, of how in touch with the earth they were. Some spoke of how they were the First, that they had been here long before any Mortal set foot here. 

«Indeed I am,» the Spirit answered with a slight tilt of his head. His long, white hair seemed to move as in a constant breeze, and his icy skin seemed to shimmer in the light. «I go by many names, but you may call me  _ Siebren _ .»

Siebren did not move from his spot by the entrance, but his inhuman eyes did not leave Reinhardt’s. For all intents and purposes, it should have been unnerving. But for some reason, Reinhardt felt no fear as he slowly sat up on the pelt he was laid out on. If the Spirit had wanted him dead, he would not have rescued him from certain death. But that begged the question…

«Why did you save me, Siebren? I was, by all rights, a dead man. I  _ should  _ be dead, as I felt the tug of the Old Ones on my soul. Yet here I sit, alive, with a beating heart in my chest. Your kin do not bend to the rules of Mortals, so a King dying should be none of your concern.» Reinhardt’s voice was still rough from disuse, but it was stronger now than it had been. He unconsciously placed a hand above his heart, feeling the sluggish beat of it. It was slower than expected, but it was beating nonetheless. 

«You are correct that we Spirits do not care for your Mortal rules, but that does not make us unkind. I must admit, that when I saw you in the snow, I could not let you die. Not when I had the power to stop it. However…» The Spirit stopped, looking away for a moment, before walking a little closer. He kept away from the fire, but now Reinhardt could see Seibren much clearer. What he first thought was an ice crown atop of the Spirit’s head, turned out to be majestic horns sprouting from the top of his skull. There were trinkets hanging from them, and they clinked as he moved.

«Saving you does have a cost, King Wilhelm. It has made you...less Mortal. I understand if you do not wish to remain, and I can release the spell keeping you bound. You will join your ancestors and watch the Mortals with them, if that is truly your wish.» Siebren tilted his head as he spoke, his expression gentle.

Now, that the Spirit had pointed it out, Reinhardt could feel it. His skin felt less flexible than it had done before, and when he looked at his hands, he saw that his fingers had gone blue. And yet, when he willed them to move, they did, and he felt no pain nor any resistance. It was as if the damage had been healed, but the mark remained as a reminder. 

«...I see.» The King let himself contemplate for a moment, and the Spirit merely sat down in silence as time stretched on. Whilst Reinhardt had accepted death, it did not mean he was eager to join his ancestors. And yet, when he had thought about his niece and her taking over the throne, he did not regret it. He knew that would be the right choice, to let her become Queen.

«I suspect, if I take your offer to remain here, I will not belong alongside Mortals?» Reinhardt spoke at last, lifting his head to glance at Siebren. The Spirit glanced up at him as well, his eyes full of wisdom and age.

«Indeed, your Majesty. The spell that currently binds you is merely a temporary one. If you chose to remain, you would become a half-Spirit. It would make you Immortal, and you would not belong with the Mortals any more,» Siebren answered easily, his voice ringing with an etherealness that Reinhardt had missed before. It was...beautiful...to listen to. Like a stunning dream you never wanted to leave.

«Ah.» Reinhardt rubbed a hand - a blue-tinged hand - over his white beard, his expression thoughtful. Becoming a Spirit was not something he ever thought would happen, and yet… Here he was. Being offered becoming a Spirit, instead of joining his ancestors. 

Rationally, Reinhardt knew most would accept the latter, wanting to join the glorious halls of his forefathers, but… Not Reinhardt. Whilst the offer had been tempting before, now Reinhardt felt...saddened...at the thought. He could not leave yet. He knew it, in his soul, that he had more to do in this Realm. 

He could not leave.

«...I accept your offer, Siebren. If you wish to grant it to me, I would be  _ honoured  _ to become a Spirit. It is an honour to be offered this gift, and I would be forever grateful if it were granted.» Reinhardt bowed his head as he spoke, showing the Spirit the respect he deserved. It was not an usual gift being granted to him, and Reinhardt knew this. He knew being offered to become a Spirit was something special.

And he would cherish this gift, if it were granted to him.

«I already offered, your Highness, and I have not rescinded it. It is there for you, if you wish to take it. But you must sacrifice your Mortality to become one of us. Most Mortals will not recognize who you were, if you are to accept.» Siebren looked straight at Reinhardt as he spoke, and Reinhardt knew the words rang true. The Spirit was honest and meant every word, offering him such a gift and asking for nothing in return. 

«Call me Reinhardt, my friend. I am a man of no titles, now. I humbly accept your gift, and I wish for us to remain equals. Here, I am no King. I am just a man asking to remain in this Realm, in trade for my Mortality,» Reinhardt said honestly, his remaining eye trained on Siebren’s. He was willing to trade, to give what remaining thing he had left to stay. To keep an eye on his people  _ here _ , to protect them if push came to shove.

«Then, Reinhardt, I will grant you your wish. You will become a Spirit and walk amongst us as one of our own.» As Siebren spoke, his eyes began to light up in a brilliant blue hue, and the fire snuffed out. But it bothered neither of them, as the cave itself seemed to glow softly. «You will live amongst the snow and the ice, and be one with Nature.»

Reinhardt closed his own eyes as something seemed to settle in his chest. At first, it felt startlingly cold, but it soon eased into a comforting cold nestled by his heart. His skin prickled as if a thousand needles had punctured it, but it did not feel uncomfortable. It was, startlingly, freeing. As if a weight had been taken off of him, as if years of battered bones had been healed. 

He had no sense of how much time had passed, but when he once more opened his eyes, the cave still had its soft glow, yet everything was so much  _ clearer _ . He could breathe easier, and when he focused his eye on Siebren, he noticed even more details. The way the ice seemed to move across his skin, the way his eyes looked like stars upon closer inspection. He was….beautiful.

And he had saved Reinhardt from certain death, and granted him the honour of being a Spirit. 

Reinhardt gave Siebren a wide grin, and he could feel how his teeth felt different in his mouth. Sharper, less human. He glanced down at his hands, and he could now see how his skin had become much like Siebren’s, iced over and absolutely  _ stunning _ . There was also a new weight atop of his head, as if something new had been placed atop of it.

But the biggest change of all, was how his body felt...lighter. The aches from old age and battle was now gone, replaced by a cool and refreshing chill. Siebren had not only saved him, but he had taken away his pain as well.

«Thank you, Siebren. Thank you.» Reinhardt gave the Spirit a genuine smile, which the Spirit returned with a gentle crinkle of his eyes. And before Siebren could manage to answer, Reinhardt moved to pull him into a tight hug. He was careful not to crush the Spirit, but the hug was firm nonetheless. «You saved my life, and I owe it to you.»

Reinhardt felt Siebren awkwardly pat his back, but after a moment melted into his embrace. «I could not let you die, not when I had the chance to save you.»

They pulled apart, but Reinhardt kept a hand resting on the Spirit’s shoulder. «You saved me, nonetheless, and I am eternally grateful.» Reinhardt knew, deep in his core, that he would be loyal to this Spirit. There was something with him, something that Reinhardt inherently trusted. Perhaps it was the kindness and wisdom in his eyes, or the way he had just saved him despite not needing to.

And, Reinhardt mused, if he were to live forever, living with Siebren was not exactly a downside.

«Of course. Now, I suspect we both have much to talk about. You must have questions, and I wish to know you better, my friend. I have been merely an observer for so long,» Siebren said after a moment, his smile showing off his own sharp teeth.

«I would be more than happy to share some tales, after all you have done for me.» Reinhardt grinned back, his eyes shining just as brightly as Siebren’s. «It would be an honour.»

* * *

And so they sat, close together, sharing tales amongst themselves. The Stars and the Sun passed outside of the cave, but neither paid it any mind. They had all the time in the world, and neither had realised how desperately they had needed such companionship.

They spent days swapping tales and stories, hunting for food for the both of them, and observing the mortals. The days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months, and months into years. The two grew closer and closer, and soon they were inseparable. 

Some mortals claimed they saw two Spirits stand in the Winter Lands, hand in hand as they walked the lands. Some even saw them at the border of the forever icy lands, observing the going ons of the mortals that passed. 

Immortality was not so lonely when you were two, and the cold could not touch hearts that had found each other. 

Even frozen bodies could have warm hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after :) 
> 
> They would marry a few years later, and spend the rest of their days watching over humanity and protecting their close ones. And maybe, one day, Reinhardt got to see his niece one last time :')
> 
> You can reach me @irisbaggins on Tumblr, if there's any requests or inquiries :)


End file.
